


Do You Know What I Think?

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Food Kink, Husbands, Kissing, Love, M/M, Nipple Play, Sexy, Sexy Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hates when his husband tries to make him eat healthier. There's no point, he's not going to eat rabbit food - lettuce, carrots ... salad? Disgusting!</p><p>At least .... that's how he feels until Cas makes it all sound pretty tasty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Know What I Think?

**Author's Note:**

> This was a writing challenge proposed to me by my lovely tumblr daughter demonic-bunny. She asked me to try and turn "making salad" sexy. Let me know if I succeeded.

"Dean, can you make us some salads?"

Dean rolls his eyes as he nestles himself deeper in the cushions of the couch. “Not really.” He can feel his husband’s aggravation start to fill the room.

” _Fine_ , I will make those as well— on top of the roast and the side dishes, and this pie that you practically _begged_ me for last night; but _no_ , it’s fine. I will make the salads too.”

He gets up with a groan, “Oh my God! I was _kidding_! I’m coming to make the damn salads.” Dean shuffles through the living room and into the kitchen where his eyes fall on his husband, looking adorable with stains on his usually, pristine, white button up. “I will make the salads, even though you know I _hate_ salads.”

Castiel eyes him as he continues to stir the gravy. “They can be delicious, Dean … if you make them correctly.”

"There is nothing _correct_ about _rabbit-food_. Salads are just tasteless, crunchy bits of leafs and twigs. Nothing about them is appealing.” Dean walks over to the fridge to collect the lettuce, carrots, onions and whatever else he knows the other man might like in his bowl of compost.

Castiel continues to glare as Dean piles everything on the counter. 

"Is there anything else you want with your _rabbit-food_?”

"You know, Dean …" Dean looks up to see his husband clicking off the stove, finally turning around to face him completely. "I think you just need to change your perspective on salads— to see how good they can be."

The familiar look skating around those blue eyes makes Dean’s skin burn. “Oh— _oh yeah_?”

Castiel gives a half-smile and saunters over until he’s flush with Dean’s chest. “Yes, you just need to observe all the pleasant aspects of the vegetables in order to appreciate how _good_ they can be.”

Dean leans back against the counter as Castiel pushes into him. His husband’s voice is low and his lips are too close to his skin, moving the air in little bursts, making his flesh speckle with goosebumps. “I don’t know how that’s possible.”

Castiel’s hands slide up Dean’s hips, rubbing softly back and forth before continuing their path behind him to vegetables on the counter. “Turn around.”

He obeys the command— he _always_ obeys. He turns and soon feels his husband push into his back, grinding slowly across his body and letting his breath sink beneath the folds of Dean’s shirt. Dean looks down to see Cas’s large hands grab the lettuce and his knees buckle as the man’s thumbs dig into the greens and the head is broken in half with one, hard pull. His husband’s arms tighten around his waist as his chin slides over Dean’s shoulder. 

"You know, _you_ remind me of lettuce …”

Dean let’s out a laugh, “Oh, _thanks_ Cas! Just what I wanted to hear!”

His husband stays still and reserved, continuing to grip him hard and locking him in from behind. “You do— you’re tightly wound, you’ve grown up compacted and layered and you’re not easily broken … but all it takes is someone knowing _just_ where to press in their fingers—” Castiel breaks the lettuce apart again, “to be able to split you wide open.”

Dean’s humor shifts into heavy, hot breaths. He feels his husband smile on his shoulder before turning his head a little to kiss his neck. More goosebumps rush his skin. Castiel’s hands slide over to the mushrooms. Dean watches as he collects a couple, cradling them in his palm. “What—what do _those_ remind you of?” 

"Mushrooms? Well, they are a little different— their looks don’t remind me much of anything, but it’s the way they _feel_ in my mouth …” Castiel breaks off a piece of the hooded edge, grasping it lightly between his fingers before raising it up to Dean’s lips. “I like to bite them— softly at first, not enough to break it’s skin— just to feel how it gives in my teeth.” 

Dean follows the prompt, gripping the little sliver in his bite, feeling his jaw want to nip down— but resisting, wondering why holding back is electrifying his body like this. 

"Sometimes, I will hold a mushroom in my mouth for a while, just feeling it’s smooth sides slick under my tongue … feeling the meat of it spring back against my teeth. Then I’ll close my eyes and imagine the only other thing that ever feels like that when it’s in my mouth …"

Dean gasps as his body is whipped around and his flannel is ripped open, exposing his bare, freckled chest. Castiel slides his tongue down—dropping from Dean’s neck, stopping at his chest and dancing all the way to his perked nipple. 

"So far, mushrooms are the only thing that comes close to _this_ …” Castiel growls before collecting one of Dean’s nipples in his teeth, biting softly around it, squeezing down and licking at the tip, making the green eyed man wriggle hard until his spine is grinding against the edge of the counter. 

"You think about _this_ whenever you eat a mushroom?” Dean finally whispers breathlessly. 

Castiel looks up at him, pulling away and smiling, making his eyes look dark and hungry. He glides back up and licks at Dean’s lips before whipping him around once more to face the vegetables on the counter. “Let me show you what I think about when I eat a carrot …

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr: castiel-left-his-mark-on-me. Please take a look at my other works as well ... many more feels, hottness and angst!


End file.
